


It Wasn't Real

by Crimiasymp



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:59:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8692033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimiasymp/pseuds/Crimiasymp
Summary: Self-doubt, regret and overwhelming anxiety are driving Naruto over the edge. How can he live up to the endless expectations around him? His mind races through the motions of the day, while his dreams plague him with the possible outcomes if he fails. This instability is bound to catch up at some point.





	

Low sunlight from the late afternoon kissed the earth with dark oranges and vibrant red hues, highlighting the beauty of the Hidden Leaf Village. The trees in the far distance cast drawn shadows along the streets and rooftops as the sun slowly sunk to touch the horizon. A steady hum of life drifted lazily to his ears, soothing him.

From atop the Hokage Monument, the wind was softly blowing, providing him with slight relief to the heat trapped beneath his skin. The activities of the village had moved to a slow crawl as stores began to close. People had begun making their way home to loved ones after a long day of work.

Time was moving slowly, making everything around Naruto look surreal.

Turning his attention away from the scene below and the conflicting emotions it brought out in him, he laid back against the smooth stone of the mountain and let out a sigh of relief. The quiet around him was calming, a reprieve from the usual bustling chaos he had become accustom to. Naruto eyes stared blankly into the distance. He couldn’t help but begin to wonder if he could laze on this spot forever.

Naruto had been avoiding social interactions with people for the past week, skipping out on lunch and keeping to himself. Every falsified smile he offered to a beaming villager’s face made him squirm. He merely didn't have the energy to display his usual cheerful demeanor.

Day to day had been overwhelming recently.

The way people look at him, constantly watching his every move aggravates him. Every gaze feels shrouded in empty platitudes. The recognition he had longed for finally within his grasp and it felt like a double-edged sword. He simultaneously loved and hated it, causing him grief and boundless joy.

There were expectations weighing heavy on him now. A multitude of requirements were necessary for this praise and adoration. He had big shoes to fill and Naruto wasn’t sure he was even capable.

A deep sigh left his chest along with those thoughts, anxiety and stress laced in his breath.

He would never say it aloud and will barely allow himself to think it, but his _dreams_ are morphing, diminishing and becoming less his own. His drive and ambition were dying.

Did he even deserve all of these thanks? Had he really accomplished anything worthwhile? If it weren't for his father's chakra pulling him from the rage of the nine tails, would he be the hero everyone believed him to be?

Lately, self-doubt had been consuming him and he couldn’t seem to pull himself from the swirling questions to his own adequacy.

The air around him had begun to cool as the sun dipped below the horizon. Gooseflesh rose up on his skin as the wind whipped where his clothes had ridden up. Refusing to let himself be bothered by the chill, he pulled his headband down and let it lay loosely across his eyes.

Without realizing, he fell into a fitful sleep and the racing in his mind took on new form.

_The air was stifling, thick with regret, anguish, and despair. His lungs burned for some sort of solace. The ground was slick with blood and Naruto felt his feet sink into the soft earth. His chest constricted tightly around his ribs and his knees gave out, forcing him to crumble in a heap on the ground._

_His mind was thick and hazy as he tried to process the things around him. He'd been here before._

_“Not again,” he thought as the scene before him became more clear. “Please not again!”_

_Naruto’s eyes wildly searched his surroundings until his eyes laid upon the form he had been desperately hoping wouldn’t be there._

_From the mist a man came forward. Through the darkness, one blood red eye and one dark purple bore into Naruto. His putrid aura radiated off him in tangible, overwhelming waves. Hate and angry pulsated from him as he appeared to glide across the ground._

_“Don’t do this Sasuke,” Naruto’s mind was screaming but the words wouldn’t come out. His voice felt strangled in his throat. His hands gripped the soft wet dirt beneath his fingers. The blood in the soil clung to his skin and stained his fingers red._

_Sasuke moved through the chaos of the world around him and came to stand above Naruto. His gaze was cruel and uninviting though his face held no expression._

_With agonizing slowness, he crouched and stared into the vivid blue of Naruto's eyes which were a stark contrast to the harsh colors of his own. The muscles in his face remained still, but his intent was all too clear. Sasuke raised his arm and brought it across Naruto’s shoulders, he gently pulled their bodies closer. Foreheads pressed together, Sasuke smirked at him with a wicked darkness in his eyes._

_Naruto craved to plead with his friend, but his body wouldn’t move. His mouth stayed sealed._

_With his other hand Sasuke removed his katana from the sheath and pulled it between them. Placing the tip on the column of Naruto’s throat, he stared deep into those blue eyes, conveying all the anger, regret, and relief Sasuke felt in his gaze._

_A single tear left Naruto’s eye and he could only wonder_ why _._

_Sasuke then smiled and slowly shook his head like he could hear Naruto’s thoughts. He pushed the point of his blade through Naruto’s soft flesh..._

Bolting upright, Naruto nearly slipped from the mountain’s edge.

He gripped his shirt where his heart was attempting to beat out of his chest. His lungs couldn’t get enough air in them as he gasped harshly.. Sweat dripped down his nose as he placed his head between his knees.

It was always the same nightmares that plagued his mind.

As hard as he tried to change them, all he could ever do is watch.

“It wasn’t real,” he whispers to himself. Like a mantra, he repeats it over and over. He relies on it, grasps it firmly. It’s his lifeline, his firm connection the world around him.

“ _It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this is going. But I've been fiddling with the ptsd idea for a while now. I'm a perfectionist, so I'm probably going to constantly edit and change any chapter I post.


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